


Stay?

by PoemAboutCitylights



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, World Cup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 20:58:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15155477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemAboutCitylights/pseuds/PoemAboutCitylights
Summary: Cristiano, despite all the people that doubted it, mainly Bacelonians (but what did they know, anyway?), actually had a heart.And said heart, beating nervously in his throat while his body had been on edge, had pretty damn well broken at the sight of James after the penalty shooting against England.





	Stay?

Cristiano, despite all the people that doubted it, mainly Bacelonians (but what did they know, anyway?), actually had a heart.  
And said heart, beating nervously in his throat while his body had been on edge, had pretty damn well broken at the sight of James after the penalty shooting against England.   
The way the young Columbian had tried to hide his red face from the cameras, tears filling his eyes before running down his cheeks. How he had lifted his sleeves to wipe away the wet tracks, his head between his knees, pain written all over the Bayern player’s face.   
It had made Cristiano’s heart clench, had made his insides feel as if they had been torn apart by the sheer sight of it.   
God, dropping out of the World Cup himself had hurt, more than anything, of course it had, but at least he had been able to blame his own play for it, had been able to punish himself for it by running these extra miles and pushing way harder than he knew was necessary after the end of a season.   
But having to watch James, pure James, going through all that pain, it wasn’t fair.   
Because they had been so close to the quarter finals, the younger one’s dream so close to taking another step, to taking his career further.   
And if there was anyone that knew how it felt to not be able to help his own team, having to watch from the side line without being able to do anything at all, it would be Cris.   
For him, it had worked out, though, with the European title in 2016, but James hadn’t been so lucky and it stung.   
The Portuguese couldn’t deny that he was missing the younger one, had been missing him since he had left the team to go to Bayern München.   
He had missed him when Marcello had made one of his stupid jokes, when Cris would usually catch James’ gaze to roll their eyes in synchrony, he had missed his soft hugs after the older one would score a goal and Cris had missed James way too much when the kid hadn’t even celebrated the goal he had scored against Real for Bayern.   
Columbian’s star was way too pure for this world, so soft that from time to time, Cris feared that someone would break his wings.   
And he hated how he wasn’t able to watch out for James anymore.   
  
So he didn’t think about it too much, acted purely on instinct, when he texted James the number of his room he had checked into after they had dropped out of the World Cup, only flying back home the next day.   
  
**_305, if you want to talk. Or else._**  
  
When hours had passed without an answer from the younger one, Cris began to wonder if he had said something inappropriate, whether James wouldn’t feel the need to have the Portuguese’s company after today’s match, because Cristiano had undoubtedly felt the need to see the Columbian after their match against Uruguay.   
However, right when Cris had finally giving up on nervously pacing through the dimly lit room, there was a soft knock on the door that made him jump nonetheless.   
Letting out a heavy breath, the team captain opened it in a rush, stumbling back when James almost fell into the room, apparently having leaned against the door before.   
“Whoa,” Cristiano made and caught James with his hands, his fingers curling around the younger one’s upper arms.   
James was looking up at him with big eyes that were no longer filled with tears but were all red and puffy and to make a long story short; he was looking miserable, making Cris’ chest clench once again.   
He swallowed hard and James jumped under his touch when the door fell shut behind them, the younger one’s gaze dropping to the floor as if he was ashamed of being that vulnerable in front of the world’s number one.   
“Shh,” Cristiano whispered and didn’t hesitate to pull James in, his arms coming to rest around the other player’s waist, his hands on his back.   
The younger one made a pained sound in the back of his throat and buried his face in the crook of Cris’ neck, wetting his skin while a sob was dropping from his lips, the vibrations spreading through the Portuguese’s body.   
“It’s okay, James. It’s okay,” he breathed while running his hands up and down the other man’s back, drawing soothing circles on his shoulder blades.   
“It’s not!” he croaked out and another sob was shaking his right then so fragile body, causing Cristiano to pull his former team mate even closer, until their chests were pressed against another, their bodies so close that Cris could feel James’ heartbeat pulsing against his own.   
“It’s not,” the Columbian repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper, lips brushing over the sensitive skin of Cristiano’s collar bones.   
The older one couldn’t stop himself from shivering and James, subconsciously or not, repeated the action once more.   
“I know how much it hurts. It makes you feel like breaking in two,” Cristiano whispered, trying to not let too many emotions slip into his tone while he was well aware that he was probably failing miserable.   
James wiggled out of his arms, at least so much that he was able to look up at him again, silent tears now streaming down his face once again.   
His lips parted but apparently the younger one couldn’t find the words he was looking for. Cristiano remained silent, kept on stroking the younger one’s back until James bit down on his bottom lip, shaking his head.   
“This was my dream. My dream, Cristiano,” he whispered, barely audible and God, Cris understood, he understood it so well.   
“It feels like this will never heal. So close. We were so close,” James pressed his lips together to stop another sob from dropping from his lips and Cristiano closed his eyes for a second.   
“I know.”   
“How do you cope with it? With all the disappointment? The pain? Does it ever get better?” James asked, looking up at the Portuguese with pleading eyes, and Cris didn’t know what to answer, for he knew that it wouldn’t get better, that time would only help to get used to the feeling of never actually getting _there_ , of never actually completing his career.   
Of course, some of the pain had faded after winning the European title, but Cristiano had always given everything to take it further, to not settle for his achievements.   
And he wasn’t one to lie, not to the people he loved and certainly not to James, not when he was so god-damn beautiful in the shadows of his hotel room that had been way too lonely just minutes ago.   
“I don’t know,” he eventually answered and caught James’ dark eyes once again, while he couldn’t stop himself from bringing up a hand and brushing his fingers over the younger one’s cheeks in order to wipe some of the tears away.   
“C-Can I kiss you?” James whispered in between two sobs and Cristiano’s mind went blank for a second, whilst all he could do was stare at the younger one, at the way his bottom lip was twitching under the tooth that was still digging into it and the pleading in the Columbian’s eyes.   
He placed both of his hands on each side of James’ face, leaning their foreheads against another and keeping their gazes interlocked until he eventually closed his eyes.   
The kiss was gentle at first, their lips barely brushing against each other in a shy attempt, but then James placed a hand in Cristiano’s lips and pulled him down, bringing their lips together until all Cris could taste was James, until all he could feel were the younger one’s warm fingers on his skin and his heart beating against his chest.   
When they had to separate due to a lack of air, Cristiano witnessed how James’ lips curled up in a small smile, so small that it was barely spotted but was there nonetheless.   
“You don’t ever have to ask,” he whispered, his breath hitting the younger one’s lips, “stay?”   
And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, James stayed.

**Author's Note:**

> Actually, I should already be asleep as I'm ill but then there was James and his tears and my feels got in the way.   
> This is the result.   
> I hope you liked it and if you did, comment/kudos would mean a lot!  
> Johanna


End file.
